MIRROR SHARDS
by Thee-Unknown-Factor
Summary: The Wizarding World is in chaos after Remus Lupin goes to pick up TheBoyWhoLived, only to be told, he was already picked him up by Remus! Its a race to find Harry and save Remus from the Kiss.


Prologue

If one were to enter this house they would not find peace and quiet, like that of a normal house in the middle of the night. Instead, they would be welcomed with the bloodcurdling screaming of a teenage boy of around 16. They would hear him thrashing on his bed as if fighting some unseen enemy; and then it would go absolutely still and one would have to wonder if that unseen assailant had succeeded in their task: of silencing the boy.

It was just a night when the clouds were few and far between, giving way for stars to twinkle humorously in the sky, sitting next to a full moon which shone with all the brilliance of a flashlight in a dark hallway. Perhaps that's a good analogy, a flashlight in a darken hallway, a light for someone's feet to be guided by.

If only that light were a guide for the now silent boy, who lie on his bed, still as death, and skin just as pale. With a mop of unruly black hair lying haphazardly over his forehead, it didn't seem to be able to hide a strange marking: a scar. A scar, that was in the shape of a lightning bolt.

The shallow rise and fall of his chest was one of the few indicators that the boy was indeed asleep, and not dead as one would assume at first glance. On the table beside his bed lay his glasses, which by design, would allow him to see. And if he were to see himself, by some strange design would he look upon himself and realize that this might be the last time was there? Would he realize the danger that he would soon find himself in? Would he be able to rely upon himself and those he held most dear and make it through what lay ahead? Or would he flee and take the easy route out, and leave his friends who might have helped him.

A low moan escaped this boy's lips, as he slowly and painfully turned over on the bed, onto his side and then over the edge of the bed, landing with a dull thud onto the floor. Grimacing, he opened his eyes to reveal murky green eyes, which that didn't hold their normal resilience, and for that there was a good reason.

_I am so sorry Remus. I took from you the only thing you had left in this world. I killed Sirius._

With that the boy curled into the fetal position as another stab of pain made itself known in the region of his stomach. White hot fire burned in his belly, he gasped in pain and clenched his eyes shut as if not seeing would somehow lessen the pain. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple and slid down his cheek and dripped to the floor, unnoticed. Moaning in pain, the boy bit his bottom lip and tried to curl into a tighter ball, _Sirius I'm sorry! I'm sorry!_

A strange thing it was that the other occupants of the same household were not awaken by the boy's screams, in fact, it seemed as though they hadn't noticed it at all, or perhaps they were used to them by now, after five years of nightmares one would tend to become immune and unaware to the boy' screams. But, why would they ignore the child? Wouldn't it be something that as a parent they would try to ease his suffering and comfort a child when in pain. Course, that was behavior of a loving family who took care of their own, and that was not this family.

The boy stayed like that all night and into the morning as he fell into a fitful slumber, not quite the refreshing kind, but one that would at least allow him some rest.

"BOY!"

Said boy, jerked awake and grimaced as a stab of pain ripped through his neck. Uncurling from his position on the floor, he stumbled to his feet, swaying for a second before re-orienting himself. He reached for his glasses, and slid them on bringing everything into focus. He gasped, the sun was shining through his window high in the sky. _ I overslept! Uncle Vernon is going to be mad!_

Scrambling into new clothes he washed his face, brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair, of which had grown longer and to a point that it brushed against his ears, and curled at the base of his neck. _I need a hair cut._

Throwing open the door that led downstairs he nearly collided with his Uncle. Teetering to a stop, he looked up and saw his Uncle's purple face. _Oh, crap._

One big beefy hand grabbed him by his collar and literally dragged the boy downstairs with the boy trying to keep from falling.

He shoved him toward the wall that led to the kitchen, "Dudley wants his breakfast." It was rather curt and tame for his Uncle, but the boy wasn't going to complain. Hurrying to get some eggs and toast going, he didn't notice his cousin behind him as he turned with plates in hand.

Bumping into him, he could only feel the plates slip from his grasp and watch as they smashed into bits on the kitchen floor. The crash brought his Uncle in who took one look at the mess then at the boy, before his face transformed into an angry expression, the which the boy had seen before and knew what it meant.

"CLEAN THIS MESS UP! AND GET BREAKFAST MADE!"

Hurrying as fast as the rather skinny teen could, he brought it out for his Uncle, and knowing better than to sit down to eat his own meal he went back to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Bending down over the sharp pieces of the plates, he gingerly picked up some of the bigger ones and placed them in his palm, to collect there until he threw them in the bin. Picking them up carefully, to avoid cutting himself, he hadn't realized that his Uncle had come in after him.

Like nails piercing his skin, the pain was sharp and unforgiving. The ceramic that was in his palm was now cutting painfully into the palm of his hand as he tried to catch himself from falling directly into the pieces, after a shove from his Uncle.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT! WE CLOTH YOU AND GIVE YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US? BY BREAKING OUR DISHES!"

The boy scrambled to turn around, and succeeded into digging the fibers deeper into his hands and he used his hands to brace his body up while he leaned away from his Uncle.

"I-I didn't mean to! I swear! Dudley—"

"HOW DARE YOU BLAME THIS ON DUDLEY! CLEAN UP THIS MESS OR SO HELP ME YOU WILL WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN!"

Spinning around the boy ignored the pieces that were in his hand, literally and cleaned up the mess before hurrying out the back door. Blood flowed freely down his hand as he hurried away from his uncle's house as fast as he could.

Without noticing he found himself in the park. Alone. Sighing wearily he leaned his head against the trunk of a tree and closed his eyes. _I DO wish I had never been born._


End file.
